


Going Down

by wewillalwaysenduphere



Series: Take The Path That Leads To Power [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Demon Blood Addiction, Evil Sam Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Sam is not a merciful King, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7948222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewillalwaysenduphere/pseuds/wewillalwaysenduphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's the one with his back to the wall, and Sam's the one holding the knife to his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Down

**Author's Note:**

> So, the next real chapter will be long and difficult to write, because it will contain an explanation about Dean's and Sam's youth and what is real and what is not, and I'll probably need some time to get that done ^^  
> I wrote this little thing what feels like long ago and is probably a few weeks, but yeah, I like it and I feel like uploading it as a little treat to whoever actually follows this series :)
> 
> WARNING: This is not necessarily 100% canon compliant to what will follow in this verse, neither is it something that would chronologically happen now. It's a few years later, and something I wrote trying to set the mood for this verse and where it's going to go.
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoy it :)

 

 

_“So with curious eyes and sick surmise_  
_We watched him day by day,_  
 _And wondered if each one of us_  
 _Would end the self-same way,_  
 _For none can tell to what red Hell_  
 _His sightless soul may stray.”_  
 _― Oscar Wilde_

 

 

„Listen, Dean…the first thing the demons taught me was that I am strong enough to take whatever I want.“

Sam smiled at the man kneeling to his feet, his eyes a dirty yellow, like Azazel’s had been before the Boy King had decided he didn’t need him anymore. His brother had been brought to him, shackled, a little beaten up, but Sam didn’t really mind – Dean was not the type of man to easily come with.

“I want you.” He added to his previous statement, and at that, Dean’s eyes flickered up to his face. There was fear hidden beneath anger and disdain, his snarl did nothing to hide the fact he knew that Sam could use him in every way he pleased, could make him his bitch without him being able to object in any way. Sam’s powers would take his speech away, his strength, even his ability to think. Sam could mess with Dean’s brain to the point where he would beg for it, and that was what he feared.

But Sam smiled, a cruel, cold, deathly thing, so far from human Dean couldn’t understand how this creature, this monster the demons called King could be his brother. Then Sam got up, and Dean squared his shoulders, looked up at him. Defiant until his last breath, even with his hands bound behind his neck and his knees scraped open, his lips swollen and bloodied because of the earlier fight, his shirt torn apart in more than one place, blood running down his temple from a small knife wound on his forehead.

“Luckily for you, Dean...”, he crouched down in front of him, looked into his eyes, unreadable yellow pools that made Dean shiver.

“Luckily for you I learned that some things have to be given to be enjoyed. Given freely, willingly, wholeheartedly. And I’ve got time. An eternity, to be frank with you. Now you already let me fuck you once, and you begged for it. So I’ll just wait until you’ll beg again.”

Sam’s voice was friendly, the same tone Dean would use when speaking to a dog. That’s what he was to Sam, he realized. Not his brother, or a lover, or even a whore. He was a pet, a pet that needed to learn how to behave, and Sam would teach him. Would use his intellect and vast abilities on him like on everything else in his way. So far everything had bent according to Sam’s wishes, sooner or later.

Dean was still staring at him, his brother, and he was scared, because he knew he would lose. There was no way he could win. He had no powers, he wasn’t immune to whatever the demons would throw at him, he wasn’t immortal like Sam. He wouldn’t survive this.

“Keep calm.”

He had been hyperventilating, had started to shake, faced with a situation he wouldn’t be able to escape. And Sam dared to tell him to stay calm.

“Fuck you”, Dean retorted, and if looks could kill, he would have killed the infamous Boy King this very moment.

“Well, if you like it that way around, why not?” Sam winked and chuckled, and Dean hated himself for blushing, for remembering the first time they met, when he had thought Sam was just another of Crowley’s boy toys, younger than him, not dangerous, not his brother, not the freaking King of Hell.

He’d lured Sam to one of the bathrooms, only to be surprised when he ended up getting fucked, and wonderfully so, just as hard and as dirty as he had needed it. Sam had whispered the filthiest things into his ear while taking him bare and with spit as lube, and Dean knew he was a slut for this man right there and then.

That had been before Sam walked into the Roadhouse with demons on his heels, before he had raised his hand and made every weapon the hunters held fall apart into dust. Before he told him who he was, and _no, he didn’t work for Crowley, it was more of the other way around. And oh, Dean, we’re brothers. Hope that doesn’t spoil the sex for you._

Before Sam had ruined his reputation among the hunters, before Sam had announced the apocalypse was nigh.

Sam sat back down on his throne, grabbed a whiskey tumblr that was filled with something decidedly not whiskey, and gave Dean another of his everything but human smiles, this one sharp and predatory, leaving the rest of his face cold and expressionless.

“Bring him to his rooms.”

Demons grabbed Dean and he didn’t try to fight back. He had learnt to pick his battles early on.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & Kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
